Broken Window
by DeathBug
Summary: Your ticket to the future is always blank"-Would Vash still say this to a member of the Gung-Ho Guns?


Trigun: Broken Window  
  
She had to admit, as prison cells went, it was quite excellent. She'd seen resorts with worse furniture, and there was a fully stocked refrigerator. The Gung-Ho Guns may be assassins, but between Midvalley and Legato's taste for the exquisite, they could be counted on to maintain a certain level of class.  
  
However, Dominique reminded herself, it was still a prison. Worse yet, she knew it was only a temporary cell; she was on death row, and she knew it.  
  
Monav was going to die first, of course, but that was the way the Guns did things. Fail first, die first. No exceptions, at least in theory, but it always seemed like that stuck-up creep Chapel got away with all sorts of nonsense; why didn't Legato just take him apart?  
  
She shook her head; she didn't have time to loose focus. She was going to die, killed by her own teammates. There was no escaping it. And why? Because she failed. She lost, bested by that cretin; Vash the Stampede, a man whose reputation was a lie. He was a haphazard buffoon-  
  
She shook her head again. No, she couldn't let herself fall into that mental trap. Though he acted like a child, his skills were uncanny. He had bested the Demon's Eye, after all. He was an enigma, certainly.  
  
The biggest mystery about him, she decided, was his pacifism. He refused to kill. Though a simple concept, it was so completely implausible for a man in his position. Dominique had to admit that upholding such a philosophy in his situation was only a further testament to his skills.  
  
However, not killing wasn't the same as not causing death.  
  
A knock at the door brought her back to the present. She approached the door, a steel-framed monolith that stood out in a surreal fashion when contrasted to the otherwise elegant surroundings of the room. She opened the small slit and found herself staring into the ancient eyes of Leonof the puppet master.  
  
She sighed. "So it's final, then?"  
  
The old man nodded. "Of course it is, child. Was there ever any doubt in your mind?"  
  
She shook her head. "No," she admitted. "Who's going to do the job?"  
  
"E.G. Mine," Leonof replied. "He is already preparing to kill Monav; it will be done within the hour. You will die before sunrise."  
  
"I never like E.G."  
  
"He is uncontrollable, like a wild dog. He would even feast on his own pack. However, he is also a fool."  
  
Dominique scoffed. "You say that like it's a bonus."  
  
"It is for you, child." The old man chuckled grimly. "Observe."  
  
Dominique heard footsteps, then saw Leonof step aside. Suddenly, she was on the other side of the door, staring at herself.  
  
"Wha-" Of course; it was one of his puppets. This one looked so much like her, it was like looking into a mirror.  
  
"Isn't she a pretty doll?" Leonof asked. "I must say, she is some of my best work. She is even good enough to fool Mine."  
  
"You mean, you're really going to help me escape?"  
  
"Of course. I have never been one to let debts go unpaid. I shall save your life here, just as you once saved mine. A fair warning, however; I will deny that this ever happened, and if I see you again, I will have to kill you."  
  
Dominique nodded. "Of course. But how can I get out of the area without being spotted?"  
  
"Caine is waiting downstairs for you. He will take you to December, one hundred isles away from here. Anyone who spots him will think he's just making his weekly munitions run."  
  
Dominique smiled for the first time in a week; there may not be honor among thieves, but there certainly could be amongst assassins.  
  
Caine the Long Shot stopped the truck as the first sun was just coming over the horizon. As expected, he was out of the vehicle and opening Dominique's door before she even had her seatbelt off. Though one could not tell to look at him, Caine was a perfect gentleman.  
  
Although she disliked it, Dominique allowed Caine to take her hand and gently guide her out of the dusty munitions rig. She would just as soon have gotten out unaided, but Caine was risking a lot for her; the least she could do was indulge him.  
  
"Thank you," she said simply. Caine tipped his weathered hat to her, and got back into the truck. She always suspected that Caine had an attraction to her, but he never acted on it, so she was never sure. Hell, even if he did have feelings for her, he probably wouldn't act on them anyway. It's hard to read a man who never speaks.  
  
She watched his rig drive away, feeling a bit of remorse in the knowledge that she'd never see him again. No, it was more than that; what was driving away was her past life.  
  
Damn, she scolded herself. When did I become so melodramatic? So I'm not a Gung-Ho Gun anymore; so what? I had a life before;too bad I burnt a few too many bridges.  
  
A day, one outfit change and a hundred additional isles further away from the Guns had given Dominique more personal introspective, and she did not appreciate it. It was just now sinking in how much the Guns actually impacted her life. They gave her purpose; without them, she was just an aimless shadow of her former self, a specter with no reason for being.  
  
Damn it! This was all his fault! All of her problems began when she crossed paths with Vash the Stampede. Logically, they would all end if he died.  
  
She stepped off the bus and entered the general flow of people into the town.  
  
Vash had once said that he disapproved of suicide more than anything, but if there was a time he truly wanted to die, it was right now. He cursed himself; how could he have allowed this to happen? How could he have allowed it to happen twice?  
  
Since when did Legato have that control over him?  
  
His mind flashed back to the incident; he was dueling the Blade, yet another of Legato's demons. The Blade had already killed EG Mine, who had himself killed Monav and Dominique. There was too much death in that entire scenario.  
  
When Vash was on the ropes, Legato had stepped in, and activated his Angel arm. Simple enough, except it was impossible. Unless, of course, Legato had his other arm. Vash felt somewhat violated.  
  
The entire incident confirmed Vash's suspicions that Legato was working for Knives. Only Knives could orchestrate such a precise attack, which required data on Vash that no one else possessed. His brother certainly wasn't pulling any punches; he'd left a mark in the moon.  
  
He laughed at the thought without humor. He'd marked the moon! The entire statement seemed ridiculous! Except, of course, that it had happened. Furthermore, another city had been destroyed because of it.  
  
He silently observed the vast, flat expanse of desert around him. His life was only going to get worse from here, he realized. The bounty hunters would only increase in number and ferocity. Average citizens would fear him now more than ever. The few friends he had, he couldn't go to, not without putting them in huge amounts of danger. Maryl. Milly. Wolfwood. He could never see them again.  
He was broken from his self-loathing by the sound of tires. He looked behind him, and confirmed his suspicions; a truck was approaching. He further covered himself in the dusty rags that cloaked him. Just pass on by, friend, he thought. You don't want anything to do with me.  
  
Sure enough, the truck did pull up next to him. The door opened, and a woman got out. For a brief instant, with one of the suns at her back, her silhouette looked like Rem. Vash knew he was tired at that moment; when he was close to exhaustion, everyone looked like Rem.  
  
"Listen, ma'am," he gasped, sand clogging his throat. "Please, just drive on by. You really don't want to know me."  
  
"Really, gun fighter? I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that."  
  
As she stepped into her truck's shadow, Vash could make out her features. She was a tall woman, with violet hair cut above her shoulders. She wore an unassuming gray blouse, and black pants. Her entire outfit seemed common, almost allowing her to fade into the desert landscape. Vash had seen people dressed like that before; usually they were trying to avoid being remembered by others. Whoever she was, she was on the run.  
  
He made eye contact, and everything clicked.  
  
She had an eye patch.  
  
"What? Dominique?" he muttered. "But, you're dead-"  
  
"No," she said simply. "You are, gun fighter." She pulled out a pistol and promptly shot him in the forehead, smiling grimly as he fell to the ground.  
  
It was a rubber bullet, and she once again asked herself why. Why didn't she kill him for real when she had the chance?  
  
The answer was simple; she had spent a lot of time tracking him from the site of his last little "incident" with the Guns. It was really a stroke of luck that she'd found him. After all that effort, she wanted to find out more about him, about what made him tick.  
  
Once she was satisfied that she understood the enigma that was Vash the Stampede, she'd kill him without a second thought.  
  
Vash awoke, and the first thing he noticed was that his coat was gone. He had been stripped to his black bodysuit. A quick inventory revealed that everything he carried on his person was gone; his gun, his coat, even his sunglasses. This did not bode well.  
  
He quickly examined the room. No furniture. No windows. No fan. No closet. Only the single, unadorned mattress he was laying on.  
  
"You must have been near death, gun fighter," a feminine voice broke the silence. "Such a simple, harmless attack felled you. I'm a bit disappointed; I know you can do better."  
  
He looked behind him, and saw the only door in the room. What was more interesting was what was in front of it. Dominique the Cyclops, second Gung- Ho Gun, sat in a chair blocking the door. She held Vash's pistol, and her finger was on the trigger.  
  
Vash was confused, so he did the same thing he always did when he was confused: he made a stupid joke.  
  
"Kinda' kinky, don't ya' think?"  
  
Dominique shook his head. "Shut up. I'm not about to be pulled in by that act of yours, like I was last time. I've removed every variable from this room. I am in complete control here."  
  
"That just makes it kinkier."  
  
Dominique smiled, self-satisfied. He can joke all he wants, she was still in control. Last time, she had never been in control. She mistook a slight advantage on her part for control of the situation when, in actuality, Vash had always called the shots. This time, however, there was no illusion; she could kill him at any time.  
  
"I thought you were dead," Vash said, breaking her out of her power trip. His jovial tone was gone in an instant, only further enticing Dominique to understand this man.  
  
"I am, as far as the Guns think," she replied.  
  
"Then what are you doing? If you're not acting for Legato, why are you doing all this?"  
  
"I'm doing this for me," she said simply. "Tell me, gun fighter, do you have any idea what a contradiction you are?'  
  
Vash nodded slightly. "I've been informed."  
  
"You cause chaos wherever you go, yet you refuse to kill," she continued. "You have unparalleled skills, yet you spend your days playing with children. You bear no malice towards anyone, yet you've incurred the wrath of the Gung-Ho Guns. Why? What is it about you that causes such a situation?"  
  
Vash smiled. "You're the second woman to ask me that question."  
  
"What did you tell the first one?"  
  
"That my past is not yet buried."  
  
Dominique frowned. "What the Hell kind of answer is that?"  
  
"The only one I can give."  
  
She gestured to the gun. "I can kill you at any time; you understand this?"  
  
"I think I appreciate the situation."  
  
"Of course, you wouldn't harm me if you could avoid it."  
  
He shook his head. "Not a pretty lady like you."  
  
"And, if push came to shove, you'd let yourself die rather than killing me?"  
  
"You or anyone."  
  
She frowned again. "Why? That makes no sense!"  
  
Vash grew solemn again. "If I took even one life, it would disgrace her memory."  
  
"Whose memory?" Dominique felt she was getting somewhere.  
  
Vash hesitated, but Dominique gestured to the pistol again. "Her name was Rem. Rem Seribrem."  
  
"Who was she?"  
  
Vash paused. "You know, I'm really not sure how to describe it to someone who doesn't know. She wasn't my mother, but she taught me everything. She wasn't my sister, but she protected me. She wasn't my girlfriend, but I'd have done anything for her. She was Rem."  
  
Dominique paused. "When was this?"  
  
"I was a child."  
  
"I see.how did she die?"  
  
"Like a hero."  
  
Dominique glared at him. "That's not the answer I wanted."  
  
"That's the best answer. It's because of Rem that you're even alive."  
  
"Why haven't I ever heard of her, then?"  
  
"The greatest heroes are the one who remain anonymous."  
  
Dominique relaxed on the pistol a bit. The conversation was fascinating. "So you live your life by what she taught you?"  
  
"As best as I can."  
  
"That still doesn't make any sense; why would someone who lives by that kind of code have the Guns after them?"  
  
"Because Legato reports to Knives."  
  
Dominique nodded; she had heard Legato speak of him to Midvalley a few times. She'd never really questioned who he was.  
  
"Why does Knives have it out for you?"  
  
"He's my brother. He can't stand that I want to save spiders."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Like you; you're a spider. Knives would kill someone like you to save everyone else. I won't. I'd give up everything to just save one person as lost as you."  
  
She scoffed. "I can kill you whenever I want, and I'm the one who's lost? You should watch your mouth, gun fighter."  
  
Vash stood up, causing Dominique to grip the pistol more tightly. "It doesn't matter," he said, eyes downcast. "I can't do this anymore. I'm tired. Every time I try to help, I only make things worse. I know that Knives is wrong, but I just can't stop him, or save him-"  
  
He looked at her, and his eyes pierced her soul. "I'm tired of fighting, Dominique. I'm tired of watching my friends and completely innocent people get hurt just because I exist. Pull the trigger. Shoot me, and walk away."  
  
Dominique was silent for several minutes. "Why would I walk away?" she finally asked.  
  
"Your past is closed. I envy you for that. Walk away and don't look back."  
  
She laughed bitterly. "You really think I can ignore everything I've done and create any sort of life? You're a fool, gun fighter."  
  
"Your ticket to the future is always blank."  
  
Dominique stood up as well. She finally understood what it was about this man that enticed her. He was everything she wanted to be, but couldn't. He had just as many problems with his past as she had with hers, yet rather than descend into violence, he overcame his adversity with good humor and a gentle soul.  
  
At that moment, she realized she hated what she had become.  
  
She couldn't let this show. "You really trust me?"  
  
"If you were truly lot, you'd have already killed me."  
  
She approached him cautiously, then stopped right in front of him. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"Fade away." He looked more grim than Dominique had ever seen him.  
  
"No," she said. "Don't."  
  
Vash didn't flinch. "Why not?"  
  
"Because I don't want to see you get beaten down. I want to know that a kindhearted fool like you can make it in the world."  
  
Vash walked for the door. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but, I just can't anymore."  
  
The shot went off, leaving a hole in the wall just above Vash's head. "Damn it, you don't just get to give up!" Dominique yelled. "If you can't make it, then how can any of us? If there's no hope for you, there's no hope at all for me! You don't have the right to destroy any hope I had of doing something with my life! I won't let you! I'll kill you before I let that happen!"  
  
Vash turned around, and slowly approached her. She froze; before mastering the Demon's Eye, she had been approached that way by a man before; it had ended with him striking her. She dropped the gun.  
  
Vash stopped, directly in front of her. Dominique was ready for anything, except what actually happened.  
  
He hugged her.  
  
"I know you can do it," he whispered. "I have faith in you. It's myself I've lost faith in. Your past is gone; you don't have to stay trapped by it anymore."  
  
He released her. She was completely shocked. Vash calmly picked up his pistol, and opened the door. Sunlight streamed into the room. Outside the shed he found his coat, his glasses and the rags he was hiding himself in. He put them back on, and started off again.  
  
Dominique walked slowly to the doorway, watching as Vash did, indeed, fade away into the desert sands. She sat down on the ground and stayed there for a long time, thinking.  
  
She awoke with a start, her mind chasing away he phantom images of her dream. Before even processing them, she knew it had been about him again.  
  
It had been several weeks since the incident with Vash the Stampede, yet she had been unable to get him out of her mind. He haunted her.  
  
She heard voices outside of the hotel window, and walked over to it. Two arrivals off the late bus were entering, talking excitedly.  
  
"I'm tellin' you," the first disembodied voice said. "The whole town's gone!"  
  
"Think it's the Humanoid Typhoon?"  
  
"Nah, can't be him. See, the town's standin' without a scratch; it's the people who're all gone!"  
  
"I get it; Vash works the other way around."  
  
"Right, but that's not the best part! There's this one word written in the center of the town: Knives."  
  
"What's it mean?"  
  
"Who knows?"  
  
As the voices faded away, Dominique was already getting dressed. She knew what she had to do; find Vash. Whatever way he felt, she knew that she had some sort of feelings for him, and she had to work through them if she was ever going to get on with her life.  
  
She knew exactly where he would go.  
  
She never made it to her destination. As her Thomas galloped along towards her goal, she saw a small marker of in the distance to the east. Curious, Dominique diverted her steed in that direction. What she saw when she arrived stopped her cold.  
  
It was a grave marker. For Caine the Long shot.  
  
There was his unique weapon and his trademark hat, sticking out of the sand. Her friend, Caine, was dead. She had no doubt that he killed himself. She also had no doubt about who had buried him.  
  
She did not cry, of course. She hadn't cried when former Guns died in battle. Edward the Venom and Geller the Slayer were her friends as well, and she shed no tears for them.  
  
However, the humble grave spoke volumes to her. Caine didn't get the last chance at a new life that she did. The path he'd followed consumed him. And she.  
  
She was throwing away her second chance by being consumed by her past. That was what Vash had meant. Her ticket to the future was blank; was she just going to throw it away?  
  
"You're a remarkable man," she said to the absent Vash. "Hell, I might even have been in love with you. But it just can't work. You're a part of my past, a past that's been closed. I'll always remember you for what you showed me. Hope you can close your past like I did mine."  
  
She paused. "Thank you for believing in me," she said in a whisper.  
  
She looked into the endless expanse of sky, which seemed much more vibrant that usual. It was as open as the rest of her life was.  
  
"The match goes to you, gun fighter."  
  
She mounted her Thomas and rode off into her future.  
  
End 


End file.
